


Dennis Wears a Wedding Dress

by WhatupGhouls



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Closeted Mac McDonald, Crossdressing, Kinky, M/M, Sex, Swearing, Women's Underwear, porn with just a hint of plot, season 5, they were banging in season 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:53:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25164217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatupGhouls/pseuds/WhatupGhouls
Summary: When Dennis finds the pawnshop wedding dress in Mac's closet, he decides to have a little fun with it...
Relationships: Mac McDonald/Dennis Reynolds
Comments: 8
Kudos: 88





	Dennis Wears a Wedding Dress

Dennis always enjoyed the potential of a single question to completely unsettle a person. A query, delivered with the right level of indifference could arouse the most telling of reactions, exposing a vein of raw honesty that most people would never want to see the light of day. 

“Mac, why do you have a wedding dress in your closet?”

Had he been so inclined, Dennis could have drawn the look on Mac’s face. Wide-eyed, mouth half-open in readiness for the frantic stream of denials and excuses to follow, panic practically oozing out of every pore. 

On the couch in the living room, Mac was wearing that exact expression and responded to Dennis’ question with all the subtlety of an ice-pick to the eye.

“What? No, I don’t! Shut up. It’s not mine” he paused, for the barest of milliseconds seconds. “Besides, it’s not even a wedding dress. What are you talking about, dude?”

Dennis, for obvious reasons, was not inclined to accept those answers.

“I dunno,” said Dennis, his voice light, almost musical as he entered the living room. “I mean...it’s a gown...a white, floor-length gown...basque waistline...some  brocade on the top-half which whilst I am not personally a fan of, I feel I can pull off…” 

Mac was certain his reaction was pulled straight out of one of those old cartoons - jaw on the floor, eyeballs on stalks. Maybe some hearts floating around his head as an ‘awooga’ siren blared. Full-on horndog reaction.

Dennis stood in their living room wearing a wedding dress.  _ The  _ wedding dress. 

The wedding dress Mac had insisted be bought whilst half-concussed but insisting he was completely coherent. The wedding dress that witnessed grenades and gunshots. The wedding dress, second hand at best, that Mac could never find the strength to throw away. Instead, he’d kept it - a curiously pretty memento of his and Charlie’s misguided adventure in how to take your own deaths and (not) get away with it. 

It had been dry-cleaned though, but not by Mac. Even in his most self-accepting moments, he had never allowed himself to take the wedding gown fully out of the closet. There’d been moments when Mac’s fingertips had grazed the satin material of the skirt as it hung in his closet, smelling of smoke and solvents that he’d come close to considering taking the dress out...

But what then? Wearing it. Flouncing up and down the length of his room, catching his eye in his mirror. 

No. Best to keep it (along with a lot of other troublesome thoughts and feelings) locked away out of sight. 

But now, the dress had been discovered by the one person Mac felt least able to justify its existence to, in the most confusing and captivating way possible.

The wedding dress that Dennis wore was crisp and fresh, a light scent of lavender shrouding the garment. Dennis locked eyes with Mac, head dipped and eyebrows raised as if to say ‘like you could ever reject this’ as he patted down the skirts of the dress.

Mac felt his nervous swallowing could be heard from Baltimore to New York as he tried in vain to process whatever the fuck was happening. How was he supposed to react to this - Dennis, in his living room, in a fucking wedding dress? 

“So....why’d you have a wedding dress, Mac?” asked Dennis, daintily smoothing out the creases in the dress’ skirt, conjuring up the comparison of a young girl at her junior prom. So coy and sweet. 

“I...we...there…” began Mac, fixated and distracted by the way Dennis moved in the gown, the fluid flow of his torso making the skirts of the dress sweep and swish across the floor. “When...me...and me...Charlie. Dead. Pretending death, pawnshop dress...so...”

“What?”

How does Dennis make a single word sound so prissy, so self-obsessed and yet so fucking charming?

Mac manages to finally find the words in his vocabulary to answer despite his brain being on fire with a rarely seen combination of anxiety and arousal. “Me and Charlie went to a pawn shop and there was this wedding dress and it was so perfect and we bought it and...I kept it.”

Dennis quirks an eyebrow, before glancing down at the fabric that falls from his hips; a graceful, tasteful waterfall of satin. 

“Well…” he said, again smoothing down the skirts of his bridal gown with an inviting rustle “Charlie’s loss is my gain - zip me up, will you?”

He strides over the couch where Mac is still frozen in place and with a twirl, presents the back of the unzipped gown. He waits, hands on his hips for, Mac to comply.

Mac reaches out with slightly trembling hands for the zipper, half-expecting it to burn his fingers. He slowly draws the zipper upwards, marveling at the way the dress molds itself around Dennis’ torso. Mac would never have imagined putting clothes  _ on  _ someone could be so exciting, but something about the way Dennis’ bare back was being slowly covered by fabric as the zip rose to the top was making him feel lightheaded.

“Thanks” said Dennis casually, like he hadn’t just asked his friend/roommate to help him into a secret wedding gown on a Tuesday afternoon.

Mac and Dennis had an unspoken agreement of late - they would fuck. 

It was purely for sexual release, no weird feelings or romantic shit involved. Just sex. More often than not, it was Dennis who initiated and the only rule was it was never discussed. Ever. Not in passing, not under a heavy layer of innuendo or insinuation. Nothing.

They fucked, they avoided eye-contact for a couple of hours and they never ever came close to talking about what they were doing. 

Simple.

“I gotta say, Mac,” said Dennis as he propped a foot on the coffee table in front of the couch, “I am not seeing how a pawnshop wedding dress fits into you and Charlie faking your own deaths...”

If Mac was in any condition to explain, he sure as hell wasn’t when he witnessed what Dennis did next.

Dennis reached down and gently grabbed a handful of the skirt and hoisted it up to his thigh on the leg propped at a ninety-degree angle on the coffee table. The fabric glided up his leg, revealing white, silky stockings. 

Mac had definitely not bought those at the pawnshop. He’d have remembered. 

Fiddling with the clasp on an ivory-colored suspender belt, Dennis subjected Mac again to that look that dared him not to find this attractive. He placed his foot back down on the floor, shaking out any creases in the fabric.

“Do you like this?” asked Dennis, his hands gesturing to all of him, poured into a wedding dress like it had been made just for him.

Mac nodded, his mouth dry from nerves and excitement. “Y-yeah” he managed to croak as his eyes wandered up and down Dennis’ body, drinking in all the details.

Dennis smiled, obviously satisfied with the answer. “Do you want to fuck me?” he asked, in direct contravention of the one single unspoken rule about their sexual situation. 

Again, Mac found himself at a loss for words. Of course, he wanted nothing more than to peel away the wedding dress, kissing Dennis hard all the while before fucking him with unrestrained passion.

But this could be a trap - Dennis out to trip Mac up and get him to not follow the rules. One of his mind games. 

Regardless of what this was, Mac was powerless to not respond when Dennis asked again, the playful tone that often came out in the midst of their sexual exploits coating his words with the promise of more. “Do you want to fuck me in the wedding dress, Mac?”

“Yes.” 

Dennis' smile turned into a self-satisfied smirk as he enjoyed toying with his friend. “Say the words,” he said, that tone still tauntingly promising. 

Mac’s eyebrows twitched upwards in confusion. His mind, a fog of horniness and anticipation couldn’t fathom what it was that Dennis wanted him to say. 

“Say the words, Mac” added Dennis as he stepped in front of Mac’s legs, gazing down at him expectantly. “Those two words that every bride wants to hear on their wedding day.”

“I do” said Mac, embarrassingly quickly. “I do - I do, I want to fuck you in the wedding dress.”

With a rustle of satin, Dennis knelt onto the couch, straddling Mac’s legs as he rested his hands on the back of the furniture. He smiled and allowed Mac to lean in and kiss him on the lips, surprisingly gentle given how obviously aroused his friend was.

An unusual aspect of their ‘fucking without feelings’ arrangement was that kissing was allowed, encouraged even. Again, it was subject to the overarching rule of never ever talking about it, but there was something about the way that Mac and Dennis fucked and wanted to be fucked that meant kisses were a huge part of it. Dammit, they were both probably desperate for that kind of affection.

Mac kissed his way from Dennis’ lips, down his jawline to his neck. He breathed in the familiar scent of Dennis’ cologne, his mind reeling from the memories held in that aroma. 

Their kisses grew more intense, greedy. Dennis moaned as he felt Mac’s hands reach around to his lower back, feeling him explore the shape of the body hidden beneath the dress. Mac’s hands slipped under the fabric of the gown, feeling out for Dennis’ legs under the layers and layers of material. It was like unwrapping a present, fingers exploring under the skirts to find a part of Dennis’ body to caress.

Mac’s fingers grazed the silkiness of Dennis’ stockinged leg and he found himself shivering at the delicate feel of it against his skin. Wrapping his hand around Dennis’ calf, Mac squeezed it ever so slightly as his palm glided over the firmness of his friend's calves up towards his thigh.

He stopped when his fingers ran across a different piece of fabric near the top of Dennis’ thigh, a band of what felt like lace that was worn tantalizingly close to his crotch. 

“Are you wearing a garter?” Mac moaned, nuzzling Dennis’ neck. 

Feeling bolder now, Mac continued to move his hands up Dennis’ body, eager to explore how committed he had been to wearing this wedding dress and its associated  accoutrements . He toyed briefly with the clasp on the suspender belt, a hard little sensation in the middle of all of the soft slinkiness. 

His fingers slipped between Dennis’ thighs, the flesh pleasantly warm from the layers of the dress and their close embrace. 

A dream Mac didn’t know he’d had before today came true when he felt the delicate, lacy underwear Dennis wore. Mac could see them now - pure white, stylish and sexy in an understated way with delicate lace details befitting such a special occasion. The thought of Dennis’ erection in lingerie made Mac’s pulse quicken. 

As if Dennis could tell what Mac was thinking about, he twisted off of Mac’s lap and lay back on the couch, resting his legs on his friend’s thighs. He smiled at Mac and gave a tiny bite of his lip, knowing full well how much of a tease he was being.

Maintaining eye contact, Dennis gently bunched up the skirts of the dress towards his waist, unveiling the full length of his stockinged legs, complete with a suspender belt, garter and sexy panties. Mac felt it was one of the most beautiful things he’d ever seen - Dennis' long, slender legs stretched out before him, dressed up and begging to be explored.

Dennis lifted up the leg with the garter on it, the muscles of his calves tensing under the silk stockings. 

“Take it off,” he said, staring at Mac who reached forward, hands eager to go back to feeling every inch of Dennis’ body. 

“No. Not like that.” said Dennis, his words making Mac freeze. “With your teeth.”

Mac gladly did as he was told, slowly leaning forward to bite onto the garter. He locked eyes with Dennis, grinning behind the lace as he steadily tugged the garter down the length of his leg. When he slipped the garter off Dennis’ foot, he scrunched it up and sniffed it, entranced by the way it smelt of Dennis’ skin, sweat and arousal. 

Dennis slipped his fingers underneath the band of the stocking top, unclipping the suspender clasp with a dramatic flick. He began to roll the stocking down his thigh, agonizingly unhurried as Mac watched on. 

Overcome by temptation, Mac climbed across the couch and kissed Dennis. He grabs Dennis’ hand and pushes it down his thigh, guiding the stocking down his leg. His other hand reached into Dennis’ hair, grabbing at the curls as he fell deeper and deeper into the kiss.

Dennis’ hips bucked as Mac’s hand blindly fumbled under the skirts and made their way to his crotch. Whilst it was awkward and ungainly, the pair did not break their kiss as Mac struggled with the other clasps on the suspender belt. Through sheer luck and determination, Mac managed to get the stockings detached, the final impediment to doing what he longed to do - shimmy those panties off of Dennis and fuck him like it was their wedding night. 

Mac hooked his fingers onto the waistband of the lace lingerie and tugged them down, releasing Dennis’ erection. Before Mac could take charge, Dennis pushes him back to sitting on the couch, before climbing onto his lap. He tussled with Mac’s pant buttons, planting a series of tiny eager kisses on his friend’s cheeks. 

With a whisper of fabric, Dennis hoiked up the dress and sat down on top of Mac, moaning as the pair fit together in a way that felt that, much like the wedding dress, they had been made for each other.

Mac held onto Dennis’ waist as the pair moved, his head dropping against the back of the couch as he once again found himself cursing the ‘no talking’ rule of their fucking arrangement - this was a noteworthy fuck. This was sex worth talking about, discussed in loving detail in the small hours of the morning. A highlight reel that deserved nothing but impassioned praise. 

Dennis threw his head back, panting as he ground his hips against Mac, who took this opportunity to kiss across Dennis’ shoulders and chest. 

“Am I pretty?” murmured Dennis, wrapping his arms around Mac’s neck.

“Fucking gorgeous” came the reply, every single word feeling like the most honest thing Mac had ever uttered. 

Dennis’ pale skin was flushed, the pink a pleasant contrast to the pristine whiteness of the dress. These were the sorts of moments that Mac remembered in the cold lonely hours where it was just him and his hangups. There’d be the guilt that hit with the ferocity of an unexpected gut punch but for a few blissful seconds, he’d recall his time with Dennis - wrapped around his friend’s body, selfishly occupying all of his time and attention. In that embrace, Dennis was Mac’s and Mac never needed to share him with anyone else.

Closing his eyes in ecstasy, Dennis let out a deep moan as Mac poured years of adoration and longing into his lovemaking. He pulled himself closer to Mac, resting his forehead on his, their eyes meeting as the pair moved towards climax. At that moment, neither could recall a time when they’d been closer: physically or emotionally.

“Keep fucking me like this and I might just propose,” said Dennis, quietly, his smile warming Mac’s stomach hotter than any fire of arousal. 

In Mac’s arms, Dennis trembles as he comes, a cry escaping his throat as he gives himself over the pleasure of his roommate cherishing his body the way it was meant to.

There’s a moment of relative calm, as Mac and Dennis fight to catch their breath. Dennis smiles at Mac as he adjusts the bodice of the dress. Suddenly, he pushes himself off of Mac, tugging the skirts of his gown down into some semblance of decorum.

“I’m going to go shower” declared Dennis to his awestruck friend “alone” he added, as an afterthought. Much like before, he presents the back of the dress to Mac in an unspoken instruction to unzip it. Once complete, he strides into the bathroom, a bustle of skirts and post-sex confidence. The emphatic message was that the fun was now very much over. 

Mac is left on the couch, pants around his ankles, in the same spot he was in when Dennis turned his afternoon on its head by appearing in a wedding dress. Like many of their sexual exploits, Mac was left alone, feeling thoroughly satisfied but also like he’d missed out somehow, like there was something else he ought to have. Something softer. 

From the bathroom, he hears the sound of the shower running. Unbidden, his thoughts drift to Dennis peeling off the wedding dress, stepping naked under the hot water, washing away the invisible fingerprints left by Mac in their afternoon sex session. 

For one crazy second, Mac considers throwing caution to the wind and joining him but decides against it. Not yet. Perhaps never.

Not for the first time, Mac finds himself wondering why he’s so completely and utterly devoted to Dennis, a man who’d blown hot and cold with varying degrees of severity since the day the pair had first met. 

Despite the sadness that threatens to cast a pall on Mac’s contentment, he smiles and recalls the way Dennis felt in his arms. This complex, charming, cruel entity who wanted nothing more than to be told he was pretty in the wedding dress he’d worn to toy with Mac’s emotions.

“I’m going to marry that glorious bastard one day...” thought Mac, the idea springing fully-formed in his head before his deep-rooted guilt and denial had a chance to quash it.

Mac had his own rule, technically unspoken as he’d never shared it with anyone ever - never entertain the notion of being with Dennis. Quite apart from the fact Mac was not gay, Dennis would never give himself over to Mac in that way. 

For the time being, Mac was intent on enjoying their occasional fucks and would try not to think about the day that inevitably, Dennis Reynolds put a wedding band on someone else's finger...

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Artwork: Dennis in a Wedding Dress](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25213855) by [idkmybffspock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/idkmybffspock/pseuds/idkmybffspock)




End file.
